Read All About It
by abbzeh
Summary: Famous!Klaine. When musician!Blaine and actor!Kurt start dating, they try to keep it a secret. That doesn't stop the fans from speculating over Tumblr, though.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Yes, I started a new fic. This has stemmed from the famous!klaine fics I did in 'Time Has Brought Your Heart To Me' (Rumours and Reactions, The Joys of Teasing the Fans, The Aftermath of Breaking the Internet) and since a few people wanted me to make them into a full fic, I thought, 'why not?'. So here we are. Any words that are in bold are meant to be twitter usernames, but this site takes away the at sign. _

* * *

'And cut!'

Kurt carefully extracted himself from Santana's lethal claws, heading away from the set and towards his chair where his water was waiting. The sun was high overhead, bearing down on them like some vengeful creature. It was necessary, of course, to be filming here. They were supposed to have a couple of desert scenes, after all. Despite all that, though, it didn't change the fact that it was still close to unbearably hot out here, and Kurt wanted to do nothing more than to curl up in some shade somewhere.

As he sat down, he observed the crewmen working effortlessly behind the cameras, re-arranging the sets, doing all of the work that made it possible for the actors to work. He unscrewed the bottle of water and had a mouthful, revelling in the feel of cool water after so long in the sun. Kurt was half tempted to just pour it over himself, willing to risk the wrath of the director. Sighing, he pulled his legs up and rested his chin on his knees, staring thoughtfully at a patch of sand, He squirmed slightly in his jeans, though, the sweat from the noon sun making the fabric stick to his skin in a most unpleasant manner.

Kurt was really looking forward to his shower. And civilisation.

'If this keeps up like this, I'm going to go all Lima Heights!'

Kurt was suddenly jolted from his thoughts by a loud voice – _Santana,_ his mind helpfully added. The feeling was akin to being doused in freezing cold water which, given the current circumstances, would have been appreciated.

Of all of the people Kurt had expected to stay in touch with after high school, Santana was probably one of the last on his list, and yet here they both were.

In the middle of a desert, away from civilisation and forced into kissing each other over and over again.

Kurt looked at her lazily, not feeling like moving any part of his body. She was walking towards him, having stripped down from her leather jacket, so she was just wearing a thin halterneck top with denim shorts. She was wearing heavy boots though, so he definitely felt for her. With a sigh so heavy it could have caused a sandstorm, she dropped down into her own chair, head tilted back and slipping her sunglasses on. Santana lifted her head enough to look at Kurt.

'I'm pretty sure I'm dying,' she gasped out, looking utterly miserable. 'Why did I agree to do this?' She threw her head back again, causing one of the assistants to hurry over with make-up and a brush in hand, fussing and making disapproving noises. She slid her sunglasses off, obediently sitting still so her make-up could be redone, and she looked at Kurt again.

'This'll be over soon,' he said reassuringly, repeating the phrase that he had to say to himself every hour. 'Then we'll be back to air conditioning and sets with normal temperatures meant for humans.'

Santana looked like she was about to reply, but the director cut her off as he wandered towards them, telling them to get back into starting positions, and Kurt sent her an apologetic look.

* * *

Showers, Kurt quickly discovered when he got home that night after a day of filming in the desert, were wonderful, wonderful things.

The moment he'd stepped through the door to his LA apartment, he'd just stripped off, throwing his shirt somewhere near the couch, his jeans near the kitchen and whatever else in whatever direction, and just headed straight to the bathroom. The sudden shock of cold water on his skin after a long day of being in the insufferable heat was like the latest version of heaven, and he closed his eyes. He tipped his head back, allowing the water to cascade down his face and chest.

Kurt stood there for five or ten minutes – he lost count as soon as he turned the water on – before he actually thought about moving. Why would he want to move when he was in heaven where he was? Washing his hair and body had been intended to be a relatively quick matter, but Kurt had quickly discovered that rubbing shower gel down aching muscles repeatedly turned out to be a good way to get rid of pain. That, combined with the heaven that was the water, forced him to spend an eternity under the water, and by the time he emerged from the water and wrapped a towel around his waist, he'd spent nearly an hour under the water.

Kurt didn't bother to try to dry his hair. It wasn't like he was going anywhere anyway, and trying to sort it out would just be wasting more time that he could be spending more productively. Like sleeping, for example. Shaking his head, he turned into his bedroom and rooted through his closet, pulling out underwear, a pair of loose pyjama pants and a thin t-shirt, and just pulled them on with all the grace of a blind giraffe.

With that, Kurt threw himself onto his bed and sighed blissfully at the feel of soft sheets and duvet covers beneath him, and he stretched out languidly. God, if this wasn't heaven, he didn't know what was. He reached across the bed to the bedside table on the other side, and he grabbed his laptop from it's place and opened it.

Whilst he waited for it to load up, Kurt leant his head against his highly stacked pillows, staring at the ceiling and thinking. It wasn't about anything in particular, really. These days, his thoughts tended to drift, never staying on one thing for too long. Sometimes, he thought about the 'what ifs' of his life – what if he had spied for Puck that day back in Junior year, what if he had stayed on the path of becoming a Broadway star. Kurt didn't like to linger on those for too long, though. There were a million potential what ifs, and it was no use considering what could have been. He was happy now, and that was all that mattered.

His laptop made the generic starting up sounds, and he turned to it, lying on his side and quickly typing in his password. Idly, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he watched the blue circle spin. After what seemed to be an eternity of waiting (in reality, it was probably a few seconds, maybe more), his desktop appeared, and he immediately opened his Chrome and Skype, tapping his finger repeatedly against the mouse.

Getting to Twitter was just a matter of going to his bookmarks bar and clicking on the link, and he snorted when he saw Santana's latest tweet.

Santana Lopez ** auntiesnix**

_dying. pain. help. _

As he was about to reply to the tweet, Kurt noticed that he had an incoming video call from Rachel. Smiling, he answered it, and within seconds, Rachel's face near enough filled his screen, grainy and slightly tired looking.

'Hey,' he greeted, feeling as tired as she looked. There seemed to be about half a store's stock of eyeliner around her eyes, but it seemed to be slowly giving in to gravity, if the way it was slowly going down her cheeks was any indication.

Rachel smiled in return, stifling a yawn behind her hand, her eyes scrunching up. 'Hey,' she replied, her voice sounding hoarse as she brushed some hair out of her eyes. She smiled teasingly. 'Heard you were out in the desert today.'

Kurt couldn't help but laugh. Maybe the tiredness was finally catching up to him, or maybe the heat had driven him insane.

Or both.

'Santana?' he guessed, not even needing to think about where Rachel had heard it. If he knew Santana – and he _did _know her – then she'd probably complained to everyone she knew about it the moment her phone was within reach of a network.

'Santana,' Rachel nodded, laughing slightly. 'Did you have fun, then?'

'It was...' Kurt trailed off as he tried to find the right word to describe the experience, racking his brains which were, unfortunately for him, being uncooperative. '… an interesting experience,' he allowed, clicking his tongue idly. 'One that I'm not likely to repeat again. How are rehearsals going?'

Although clearly tired, Rachel immediately launched into a long and detailed re-telling of her day, going over every single detail with an artist's precision and a storyteller's mind. Her hands gesticulated wildly when emphasising a point about the guy playing Tony alongside her Maria – Scott, maybe? Kurt couldn't remember the guy's name offhand – or about the girl playing Anita, or about how one of the extras had nearly managed to bring the stage to it's knees. Kurt just smiled and listened to her, making the non-committal noises when appropriate and nodding. Sighing lightly, he shifted and rested his chin on his folded forearms.

' - and then, Katie somehow managed to nearly break her ankle and Ben's nose, and I just – Kurt, are you okay?'

Kurt started and looked up, and saw Rachel looking at him with an expression of concern. He must have dozed off somewhere in the middle of Rachel's talking.

'Yeah, sorry,' he apologised, rubbing at his eyes and stretching, hearing his knuckles crack. 'I'm just tired.'

Rachel smiled apologetically. 'Sorry,' she said sheepishly, running a hand through her hair. Kurt noticed that it was significantly more dishevelled than it had been originally. Idly, he felt his own, and found it to be sticking up at all angles. 'I'll let you get some sleep,' she smiled, and shifted, obviously moving her hand to be over her laptop's mousepad. 'Night, sweetie.'

'Night,' he replied, and with that, the call ended, leaving Kurt looking at his Twitter page again, and all three hundred new tweets on his homepage. He yawned, closed his laptop and placed it on the side, not bothering to switch it off. There wasn't really any point to that. With a small sigh of contentment, Kurt burrowed his way under the covers until he resembled a burrito, and let sleep claim him, softly and gently.

* * *

'You're looking happier today,' Kurt said to Santana when he saw her the next morning, handing her a coffee he'd picked up from one of the local coffee shops. Santana took it with a grateful smile – well, her version of grateful, anyway. She'd never admit to it, of course – and took a sip. 'Do I want to know why?' he asked her, sitting next to her and watching people rush around them.

'It's surprising how much good a cold bath and sleep can do,' Santana replied, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. She leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs, still nursing the coffee. 'Although I spent too long in the bath last night and Brittany thought I'd drowned, so she burst in and came to my rescue.' She rolled her eyes with a fond, affectionate smile.

'Do I want to know what happened after that?' Kurt asked dryly, picking at a bit of thread in his jeans.

'Probably not,' Santana said, snickering. 'I wouldn't want to scar your virgin-to-seeing-lady-parts brain.' She ruffled his hair affectionately, and Kurt batted her hand away, grinning.

'How considerate of you. Are you like this for all gay men you meet?'

Santana raised her eyebrow at him in a _seriously?_ Gesture. 'Nope,' she said with a smirk, popping the _p_. 'I'm considerate with you because you're like my family. Everyone else is just walking entertainment.'

Kurt opened his mouth to reply to that, but he got cut off by one of the assistants telling them to go and get their make-up done, and he sighed. Santana was grinning again, perfect white teeth on show.

Kurt was reminded of a shark.

'Come on, Porcelain,' she said with a grin in her voice, grabbing his hand and pulling him up. Her talon-like nails dug into his skin, and he gritted his teeth. 'Let's go get made up to make out!'

'Joy,' Kurt replied dryly, allowing Santana to drag him forcefully along, barely managing to not trip over pieces of sets scattered around the floor. She pulled him down the generic white corridor, past different doors until they reached the open double door that lead to the trailers outside. She pushed him up the steps to the door, all but shoved him inside and followed him in, shutting the door behind her.

If the make-up artists were surprised that Santana was there, they didn't show it. She'd turned up to get her make-up done in Kurt's trailer so many times it was practically the norm.

She leaned over from her chair, pulling Kurt closer by his shoulder and held her iPhone in front of them. 'Smile!' she said, show smile already firmly in place, and Kurt barely had the time to do just that before the flash went off. With a satisfied nod, Santana sat back in her own seat, typing away on her phone whilst one of the artists – _Ellie_, Kurt remembered – combed through her hair and started to get it into place. The other, Anna, had already brought out the hairspray, and Kurt sat back on his phone, letting her do her job.

On Twitter, Santana had already put the picture up, and Kurt smiled despite himself.

Santana Lopez ** auntiesnix**

_guess who really has freckles irl? ** kurthummel**_

Kurt Hummel ** kurthummel**

_** auntiesnix **you're cruel. now my secret is out_

Santana Lopez ** auntiesnix**

_** kurthummel** you loves me, kurt. i'm your life partner_

Kurt Hummel ** kurthummel**

_** auntiesnix** that sounds like a curse_

Santana Lopez ** auntiesnix**

_** kurthummel** it is. you're never getting rid of me_

Santana Lopez ** auntiesnix**

_** kurthummel** i'm like herpes_

Santana Lopez ** auntiesnix**

_** kurthummel** you can try to get rid of me, but i'll just keep coming back_

Kurt Hummel ** kurthummel**

_** auntiesnix** lovely._

To his right, Santana started cackling, and Kurt glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. 'You're horrible,' he told her, exasperation and slight fondness in his tone.

Santana shrugged, much to Ellie's chagrin. 'I have to earn my nickname somehow,' she said with a smile that was probably more deadly than a razor blade. She closed her eyes as Ellie began to apply eyeshadow, carefully smoothing it over in a manner that could only be professional. Kurt stared back into the mirror, watching Anna's reflection working carefully with his hair, getting it styled to perfection. She reached across him to where she'd placed the can of hairspray, and she sprayed a misty cloud of it around his hair. Kurt choked on it for a few seconds. He may have used copious amounts of it during his high school years, but he was pretty sure the smell had never been that strong.

'Oh yeah, have you heard the latest on Rachel?' Santana asked suddenly, and Kurt moved his eyes to the right as much as he could.

'No, I don't think so. Why?' he asked, curious now. He was pretty sure Rachel hadn't mentioned anything like that during their Skype chat. Then again, he'd dozed off in the middle of said chat, so who knows.

'Well, some of the people who have already seen production of _West Side Story_ she's in are convinced that she's dating Scott,' Santana explained. Kurt could hear the smirk in her voice, and he didn't blame her.

'Wait, people think she's dating Scott?' Kurt asked in disbelief, wanting to roll his eyes. 'Why?'

'Because they've got 'good chemistry',' Santana replied, using her fingers to make quotation marks around the words 'good chemistry'. 'Apparently it's impossible for two people to have such good chemistry if they're not romantically involved.' She shrugged, causing Ellie to fuss for a second or so. 'Admittedly, they _do_ have good chemistry, I'm not disputing that,' she added, almost as an afterthought. 'But if I hadn't seen her and your giant of a stepbrother making heart eyes at each other and being generally sickening, maybe I'd be inclined to believe that Rachel and Scott are dating.'

After a moment, Santana shrugged again, finally being allowed to open her eyes and taking out her phone, She pointed the camera at Kurt again, and grinned. The flash went off, leaving Kurt temporarily blinded. 'Your fans view me as the president of the fan club,' she explained with a grin in her voice. 'I have to keep supplying them with pictures of you.'

Kurt just sighed in resignation, tilting his head back to allow Anna to sweep whatever she was putting on his face across his skin.

* * *

When it was time to get into his character's clothes, Kurt had to practically carry Santana out of his trailer. She was very loudly protesting against it, shouting, 'But your fans would love to see a picture of you getting changed!' as he shut the door on her.

With a sigh of relief, he leaned against the door for a few moments, moving his neck and getting satisfaction out of the cracks. The place was blissfully quiet now, the silence only dispelled by the whirring of electronics and the sound of his own breathing. The moments like this when he was at work were few and far between, and he took solace in them whenever possible. Breathing evenly, he pushed himself off of the door and walked towards where his clothes for the time being had been laid out for him.

Kurt supposed he should be thankful for the fact that his character didn't wear the type of things that he himself had worn in high school. The thought of wearing those whilst being in the desert... well, he didn't like to think about it. Carefully, so not to mess up Anna's fantastic work, he unbuttoned his shirt – he had quickly learned that they were the most ideal things to wear to work – and shrugged it off, reaching for the deodorant and spraying it, and then pulling on the t-shirt that had been left for him. The jeans, unfortunately, weren't quite so simple. They were skinny – not as skinny as the ones he wore back home – but when he was trying not to mess up his hair and make-up whilst pulling them on, that made things a lot more difficult.

Once through with that arduous task, he quickly slipped on the Converses and hurried out of his trailer, blinking in the sudden burst of sunlight. Blinking again to adjust to his surroundings, he hurried across to the double doors, into the white corridors again and weaving in and out of the staff. Kurt barely managed to avoid getting hit by a wayward mop that fell from a room of cleaning supplies that had the door open.

He was just looking down at his phone and typing as he went when he heard a voice call his name. He looked up, and saw the director – _Simon_, his mind supplied for him – walking towards him, a shorter man following him.

'Kurt,' said Simon, smiling so widely that Kurt suspected that Simon was actually the Cheshire Cat from Wonderland, 'I'm just showing our newest friend around the set.' He gestured at the man slightly behind him, and Kurt looked at him curiously.

The first thing that came to mind was how attractive this guy was. Dark, ebony curls that obviously had a bit of product on them; eyes that seemed like liquid honey in the bright overhead lights, the guy seemed to _breathe_ out a sort of warmth that Kurt couldn't place.

The next thing that came was recognition.

'Kurt,' said Simon, dragging Kurt out of his personal thought palace and placing him back in reality, 'this is Blaine Anderson. He's writing the music for the movie's soundtrack.' Simon turned to Blaine. 'Blaine, this is Kurt Hummel.'

Kurt inclined his head, shaking Blaine's offered hand, and was about to say something else when Simon cut him off, voice booming. 'I'll be along shortly, Kurt. I'm just finishing the set tour with Blaine.'

And with that, Simon practically whisked Blaine away down the corridor, and Kurt turned to walk towards the first set of the day.

And maybe he looked back on Blaine's retreating back once or twice, causing him to nearly trip over another bit of set as he walked towards where he was supposed to be. Santana just gave him a knowing look and winked.

* * *

_A/N: So, should I continue doing this or just give up while I'm ahead? Reviews would be greatly appreciated so please, please review :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Okay, I'm really sorry that this took so long to get up. I haven't really been feeling like writing anything lately, and nothing I wrote felt right so... yeah. Hopefully this turned out okay. There are parts of this towards the end that featured in Rumours and Reactions, since this entire fic is an expansion on that (and the sequels). _

* * *

The majority of the following week was spent in a constant rush. Kurt found himself being constantly herded from one set to his trailer, shoved into clothes and then pushed onto another set for a scene that was set half an hour before the other. For almost all of the time, Simon was prowling around the set, face set in a scowl and snapping at any random extras who happened to be unfortunate enough to stumble into his line of vision. He'd even snapped at Santana when she'd accidentally walked into him whilst pulling a jacket on, before he'd walked off to snarl at someone else.

Kurt had thought that she was going to either strangle him in his sleep, or shoot laser beams out of her eyes and turn him into a Ketucky Fried Director.

He had to admire everyone who was working behind the scenes, though. Somehow, despite the sudden rushes, they were keeping their cool. There weren't any raised tempers from any impatient cameramen, nor pointed sighs from the make-up artists. They just worked more quickly than before, and retained the same level of professionalism. His admiration for them, though, didn't change the fact that he felt so stressed he felt like he was going to snap from the tension.

It was after a particularly hectic day of running around the sets and trying to keep his cool in the face of raised tempers that the moment Kurt got home, he just headed straight to his couch and collapsed onto it. Everywhere seemed to _ache_ with a heavy weight. His arms, his legs and his head seemed to be getting the worst of the onslaught against his body, and he groaned, burying his face into the cushions. Honestly, he just felt _exhausted_, like someone had been slowly draining him over the past few days.

If he imagined it hard enough, Kurt could almost feel himself sinking through the sofa. He sighed again and buried his face deeper into the cushions, breathing in the faint smell of nearly faded perfume and aftershave – a testament to the last time Santana had been around the place. He smiled fondly at the memory – or lack of, rather. From what he could remember, that had been a fun night, probably owing to the copious consumption of alcohol.

If he could, he'd stay there for the rest of night, and he was seriously considering doing that. However, as much as he loved to entertain that possibility, Kurt was very aware that if he spent the night sleeping on the sofa, he'd wake up with a crick in his neck and pain in his back from sleeping weirdly. That would mean that his acting would be less than perfect, and then Simon would probably murder him. With another groan, and much protesting from his aching muscles, Kurt forced his body up off the couch, wincing as he did so, and stumbled into a standing position.

He raised his arms above his head and twisted his torso slightly whilst stretching his arms, listening to the resounding cracks in his bones with a morbid fascination. While that had brought some relief, it wasn't enough to soothe the pain entirely. He slowly made his way across the living room to the door of his bedroom, already tugging at his jacket and pulling it off, throwing it on the end of his bed and sitting next to it, contemplative as he gazed around.

While the room wouldn't be classed as a piece of art by most, to Kurt, he viewed it as a sanctuary of sorts – the whole apartment, in fact. The place held many memories – not of the place itself – it was still relatively new and he hadn't really had the chance to break it in – but rather of the things inside the place: the lamp on the dresser that had been Kurt's through high school; the empty perfume bottle that lay protectively in a jewellery box that had belonged to his mother; every single Broadway poster on the wall, right next to the photos.

Sighing again, he tilted his head back and leaned back, resting on his forearms. Kurt felt like he could just fall asleep right there and then, but he knew from experience that sleeping in jeans was only asking for pain the next morning. That thought in mind, he reluctantly rolled off his bed, gritting his teeth when his knees impacted with the floor, and stumbled towards his closet, and flung the door open. Not really thinking, he grabbed the first pair of sweat pants that his hand came into contact with, and just grabbed a plain black t-shirt. Kurt shimmied out of his jeans and threw his current shirt towards the door, and pulled on the new clothes, already sighing in relief at the comfort it brought.

They might not be the pinnacle of fashion, but they were comfy as hell.

It was entirely possible, he mused to himself as he stumbled back towards his bed and let himself crash onto it, that he could easily lie there for the rest of the night and do nothing else. It wasn't like he had to be anywhere else, after all. He closed his eyes, let his body seem to sink into the comfort of the mattress -

A loud, sharp knock on the door shattered his reverie, and he opened his eyes, blinking.

'Yo! Hummel! Open up!' came Santana's voice, loud enough to drift through the apartment. Kurt had the brief image of her standing outside his door with a Sue Sylvester-esque megaphone. With a sigh (and a curse here and there when his bones cracked), he reluctantly rolled off the bed and staggered towards the front door. He flung it open, glaring, and came face to face with Santana. She raised an eyebrow at him, and gestured pointedly. Rolling his eyes, he moved aside, allowing Santana to breeze past him.

'Hello to you, too,' he said, closing the door and rubbing a hand across his eyes. At this point, he wasn't sure if he was tired or exasperated.

'Oh relax, you loves me,' Santana replied dismissively, dropping her white overnight bag on the kitchen table. Kurt heard the distinct clink of glass, and Santana emerged a moment later, adjusting her hair. 'I'm spending the night,' she announced as she dropped down onto the sofa, wriggling around as she apparently found a comfy position. 'Britt's out of town,' she added by way of explanation when she saw Kurt's look.

'… okay,' Kurt sighed, sitting next to her and closing his eyes.

'Kurt,' said Santana, and Kurt opened his eyes, looking at her and raising an eyebrow inquisitively. She held up her phone and grinned, gesturing for him to scoot over to her. Sighing again, he did so, and Santana held the phone in front of them, the flash from the camera temporarily blinding Kurt. With a satisfied grin, Santana leaned back into the sofa, fingers typing away, and a second later, Kurt felt his phone vibrate in his pocket (when had he put that in there?). Eyeing Santana, he slid it out and unlocked it, seeing that it was a Twitter mention.

Santana Lopez ** auntiesnix**

_chilling with ** kurthummel** after a long day _

He raised an eyebrow wordlessly at her, and she shrugged, smiling. After a moment, Santana got up and said, 'I'll put a movie in.' She patted his knee as she stepped over his legs and walked towards the shelf where his DVDs were kept. For a few moments, there was the constant, steady sound of DVD cases falling against each other as Santana rifled through them. She made a noise of satisfaction, and returned to the sofa, stepping over his legs again and kneeling in front of the TV and DVD player. Kurt looked over properly as the menu appeared on the screen.

'We're watching Harry Potter?' he asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Don't diss, you know you love,' Santana replied absently, starting the movie. She returned to the sofa and sat down, sighing as she leant back into the cushions.

The majority of the movie was spent in silence, the odd comment breaking the companionable quietness here and there. 'You know,' Santana said musingly as they watched Voldemort kill one of his followers, 'Voldemort's a bit of a dick.'

Kurt turned to her slowly. '_Really_?' he asked, elongating the word to show his vocal eye rolling, 'what gave you that impression?'

'Shut up,' Santana retorted, slapping him on the arm. Kurt tried not to wince as her talon-like nails caught his skin. 'I mean, he goes on about wanting to kill Harry like all the time, and when he gets the chance to actually do that, he spends most of the time making idle chit chat and the rest of the time making threats and insulting Lily. Don't even get me started on Tom look-at-me-I'm-an-angst-ridden-teenager Riddle. Just shut up and grow a pair.'

Kurt just shrugged. 'The entire wizarding world is full of dumb asses.' At Santana's questioning look, he simply said, 'They can regrow bones, and yet people still wear glasses.'

Santana nodded thoughtfully. 'True.'

Kurt rolled his eyes again. '_Neither can live while the other survives_.' He snorted. 'I'm pretty sure they can. They're both so stupid it'd be years before they even get close to killing each other. Even then, Harry would probably drop his glasses and good old Tommy would start rambling again.'

'If we were magical, we'd sort that place out.'

'We really would.'

Santana glanced at him, and Kurt could see a sly smile forming on her face. 'I don't think Blaine Anderson would mind your being a wizard or not,' she said, a smirk in her voice. 'He just wants to ride on your broomstick.'

Kurt turned to her, exasperated expression firmly in place. 'Really, Satan?'

Santana shrugged, absently combing her fingers through her long hair and beginning to plait it. 'I've seen him staring at you whenever he's around.' She glanced at him again, still smirking. 'He seems to get distracted a lot, particularly by _dat ass_.' She reached over, letting the half formed plait fall against her shoulder, and pinched his thigh sharply, before patting it.

'I feel violated,' Kurt said plainly. Santana grinned, and Kurt was reminded of a predator that had it's prey within it's sights.

'Show me on the doll where Auntie Snix touched you,' she said, grin still firmly in place as she began to inch towards him. Kurt edged backwards away from her, and she cackled. Kurt briefly wondered if that was what Satan sounded like.

He opened his mouth to say something, but a sudden loud noise from the TV distracted them, and they looked over in time to see Molly Weasley all but shout, '_Not my daughter, you bitch_!' at Bellatrix Lestrange. Santana nodded in approval. Aside from vague comments, the last bit of the movie was spent in silence again. The majority of the comments made were from Santana, mostly commenting on Voldemort and his bad planning skills and general dumbassery.

The moment the movie ended, Santana reached over to grab the remote and switched off the TV, lifting her arms above her head and stretching. She then got up and started walking in the direction of Kurt's bedroom. At Kurt's look, she sighed, 'I'm hardly going to molest you in your sleep, Rainbow.'

'For all I know, you might,' Kurt muttered under his breath as he watched Santana change direction at the last second and head towards the kitchen, presumably to grab her overnight back. She emerged a moment later, bag in hand, and she headed into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. Kurt sighed, leaning his head back against the sofa.

A few minutes later, his door opened again, and Kurt looked towards it. Santana walked out, overnight bag in hand, but this time dressed in a a long t-shirt and (really short) shorts. Kurt got up from his place on the sofa with great reluctance, wincing slightly, and stumbled towards his bedroom with all the grace of a blinded fish. He all but collapsed onto the bed, and he crawled under the covers, attempting to wrap himself up like a burrito.

'Don't be a blanket hog,' Santana said pointedly as she climbed in next to him, poking him in the side. He hissed at the sharp pain from her nail, and he released his grip on the cover, and Santana pulled it over herself. A few minutes of silence, then, 'D'you wanna cuddle?'

Kurt looked over his shoulder at Santana. In the faint moonlight that crept through his window, he could see her face, and there was a grin there. It was devoid of maliciousness, though, and so he turned around to face her. Immediately, she latched onto him, and he wrapped his arms around her. The smell of her shampoo – cherry and something else – was almost overwhelming from here, and he allowed himself to finally be dragged into sleep.

* * *

Santana Lopez ** auntiesnix**

_and that's a wrap! _

_ | Retweeted by ** kurthummel **_

* * *

Kurt Hummel ** kurthummel**

_this was so amazing! Thank you to everyone involved in this! _

* * *

The wrap party was in full blast. Music was blaring loudly from the speakers, making the place seem to vibrate with each beat, and there was the buzz of alcohol in the air. The lights were dim, but nobody seemed to pay it any mind. In the middle of the room stood a table, which had once housed a large cake.

Said cake was on the walls, the ceiling and the floor.

Kurt stumbled away from the dancefloor, where Santana had been trying to drag him, and he laughed as Santana stumbled back towards Brittany (he had no idea how she'd gotten in here, nor did he care). There was a pleasant warmth running through his veins, and his head felt slightly detached. Needing to catch his breath, he leaned against a wall, watching Santana and Brittany dance with each other, and he smiled to himself, losing himself in thought.

'Hey,' said a voice from beside him, and Kurt nearly jumped out of his skin.

He turned his head to the side, and he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. 'Hey,' he replied, smiling at Blaine. He hadn't spoken to Blaine since Simon had introduced them – their schedules were far too conflicting, and Kurt had barely had time to _think_ at all over the past week. Even in the dim light, Kurt couldn't help but stare at Blaine's absolute attractiveness – those dark eyes, those dark curls, that lovely face... With an effort, he pulled his thought train back on track.

'So how does it feel to be a free man?' Blaine asked with a grin that was far too attractive to be legal in any country. He turned so that he was sideways and leaned on one arm, facing Kurt. 'Whatever will you do with all that free time?' His grin was coy, slightly mischievous with an air of something that Kurt couldn't quite put his finger on. Either way, he was glad for the lights being dim; he could feel a blush steadily rising, coating his cheeks in what would be noticeable red.

'I don't even know,' Kurt laughed, feeling breathless all of a sudden. He looked out across the sea of dancing people, of people stumbling into each other with drinks in their hands, and he looked back at Blaine. Blaine was looking at him with a strange expression, like someone who was torn about making a decision. 'Maybe I'll go home and see my dad. Maybe I'll go and see my friend – she lives in New York,' he added by way of explanation. He laughed again, letting his head fall back and hit the wall. 'Who knows?'

Blaine grinned again and let out a chuckle. 'Yeah, I get that,' he said, another burst of a giggle getting released before he could stop it. Kurt couldn't help but smile at the sound. 'So, erm,' Blaine began, rubbing his free hand across the back of his neck and letting out a nervous sounding laugh. 'Do you, erm, fancy getting a coffee sometime?'

Kurt smiled again, a blush rising steadily up his cheeks again, and was about to reply when Santana staggered past with Brittany, slurring, 'You want to ride on Kurt's broomstick!' at Blaine. Blaine watched her leave, his expression suggesting that he didn't know whether he'd just imagined that or not. Kurt saw that he was blushing now, and he inwardly laughed.

'I'd love to,' he replied, and Blaine's face seemed to light up with a beam that rivalled any light. 'Give me your phone,' he said, and Blaine dug his hand into his pocket, extracting it with apparent difficulty and another grin, and Kurt quickly put his number in. Blaine did the same to his phone, and once both of their phones were safely away, Blaine took Kurt's hand and started pulling him towards the dancefloor, the sly grin from before back in place.

'Come on,' he said, his voice lower than before as he pulled Kurt amongst the crowds of dancing people, 'let's dance.'

And so Kurt danced with Blaine. The people around them ignored them, and as their chests touched and their faces were only a centimetre apart, Kurt ignored them in return. The air was warmer here, and Blaine was so close Kurt could practically taste the orange and vodka when he breathed. He looked into Blaine's eyes, and saw them clouded, saw them flicker down to his lips for just a second.

He didn't even think about it.

He just leaned in and pressed a kiss to Blaine's lips, smiling when he felt Blaine respond immediately. The kiss, while remaining mostly chaste, seemed to make all other kisses that Kurt had shared pale by comparison. They were turning on lights; this was an explosion of fireworks, and all too quickly, the kiss ended.

Blaine smiled at him, warm and breathlessly happy.

* * *

That night, when Kurt stumbled in through his apartment door, head buzzing and lips tingling from the kiss, he couldn't stop smiling. He nearly fell over when he threw his jacket towards the sofa; he nearly tripped over his own feet when he headed towards his bed, but still he kept smiling. From where he'd dumped it on his nightstand, his phone vibrated, and the screen lit up with a text. Blinking, Kurt reached across and swiped his thumb across the screen.

_How about that coffee tomorrow? :)_

If Kurt let out a breathless laugh at that, then nobody had any proof.

_I'd love to :)_

With another smile, he placed his phone down on the side and turned out the light. The pillow felt pleasantly cool against his cheek, and he smiled into it, sleep catching up to him and dragging him into pleasant dreams.

* * *

_A/N: Once again, hopefully this turned out okay. I should mention that I go on holiday on Friday for two weeks. That said, I have a netbook that I take with me, so I might be able to get a chapter uploaded while I'm there :) [whispers] please review please [backs into shadows]_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Apologies for the ridiculously late update. I was on holiday for a couple of weeks, then I just kept getting distracted. Mostly by spoilers. Anyway, hopefully this was okay :)_

* * *

Pain.

A churning _sick _feeling in the pit of his stomach.

_Jesus fucking Christ._

Kurt groaned into his pillow as he slowly came back to consciousness, really wishing that he hadn't. His head was pounding to the beat of his heart; he was pretty sure his stomach had been dragged along a floor at some point. Put simply, he felt like death. Kurt tried to burrow his way into his pillow, the darkness helping somewhat, and he groaned again, feeling sorry for himself. Somewhere to his right, there came an insistent noise, a buzzing, and he gingerly lifted his head -

Which turned out to be a huge mistake. The sun that was streaming through the windows was blinding, and he shielded his eyes futilely in an attempt to find whatever was buzzing. His phone was sat on the side, moving around on the flat surface as it continued to buzz. Wincing at the movement, Kurt leaned over and grabbed it, swiping his thumb clumsily across the screen. There were a few unread messages, and he glanced at the time. Just gone ten – okay, not too bad, considering.

**Santana**

_answer your goddamn phone rainbow glitter_

**Santana**

_when I call I expect an answer_

**Santana**

_Missed Call_

Kurt rolled his eyes, trying not to pay too much attention to the way that hurt. Of course Santana had been bugging him. Briefly, he wondered how she was feeling this morning. If her texts were anything to go by, he'd guess that she was, at least, feeling ratty. Kurt returned his attention to his phone, moving onto the next conversation that had new texts. When he saw who it was, he smiled.

**Blaine**

_Is three okay to get that coffee? :)_

Kurt kept on smiling, despite the pain it brought, and replied,

_Of course :)_

He carefully put the phone back down, trying not to jostle himself too much. Everything just _ached_. Kurt leaned back against his pillows, fingers to his temples and eyes squeezed shut. Maybe if he just breathed, the feeling of wanting to vomit would fade. Maybe his stomach would stop moving about like it was on a boat. Maybe -

His thoughts cut off as he suddenly jolted upright, hand over his mouth. Fighting to keep his stomach firmly inside his body, he rolled out of bed and rushed towards the bathroom, gritting his teeth when his knees impacted with the cold tiles.

When he next emerged from the bathroom, leaning against the door and running a hand through his hair, he felt like he wanted to pass out again. Cold shivers ran down his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and Kurt sniffed. Swallowing, he looked towards his bed, so tempting and warm and soft, but forced himself to turn away from it. If he got back into bed now, he'd fall asleep and wouldn't surface for the rest of the day. He knew from experience that that would happen.

Instead, he turned and walked through the door to the bathroom again, grabbing the air freshener from the cabinet and spraying it. The bright fluorescent lights that shone down on him from overhead were murder on his sensitive eyes, and he had the wild urge to get a baseball bat and smash them. Rationally, he knew that would be far more trouble than it was worth, but it didn't change the fact that the lights fucking hurt like a bitch.

Showering, Kurt found, took far longer than it should when he had a hangover. The light was shining onto the tiled walls and the glass surrounding him, glinting into his eyes and making him wince every time he opened them. He felt along the wall blindly until he found his shower gel, and that turned into a battle to try and get it to pour into his palm, not onto the shower floor. And on top of all of that, the noise of the water running and hitting the tiles was torture on his ears.

Once he'd mostly dried himself, he'd stood for a good few minutes at least in nothing but the towel, staring into the closet and the rows of clothes. Eventually, he decided that he couldn't be bothered with several thousand layers, and he ended up in a t-shirt and jeans. It was only coffee, he reasoned as he moved to the mirror and started to fix the disaster that was his hair. There was no need to go fancy with things.

Taking a deep breath, he slipped his sunglasses over his eyes and mentally braced himself.

Time to face the outside world.

* * *

'So you're going out with Anderson in a bit?' Santana asked, her voice muffled by the shirt she was pulling over her head. Kurt leaned back a bit as she flailed in her kneeling position on the sofa, and when her head emerged from the fabric, it was sporting a smug grin. 'I _knew_ you wanted to get in his pants!'

'It's just coffee,' Kurt protested, batting her hand away when she tried to pinch his cheek. 'There will be no getting into anyone's pants.'

Santana just raised an eyebrow. 'We'll see,' she said, getting up and heading towards her kitchen. Kurt could hear her moving around, things noisily clattering together and Santana's occasionally muttered curses. A couple of minutes later, she emerged, holding two cups of coffee, and she held one out to Kurt. Smiling, he took it from her and took a sip, grateful for the rush of caffeine going down his throat. When he'd been getting ready that morning, he'd forgone the coffee in his haste. To be honest, it was lucky he'd remembered to eat a granola bar on his way to the door.

'So have you told Rachel about your date?' Santana asked, bringing her cup to her lips and taking a sip. She watched him over the brim, eyes attentive despite the slight dark circles under them. They were the only sign that she had felt as bad as him this morning.

Kurt shook his head. 'Not until I'm more certain about where we stand,' he said, taking another sip.

'What's more to know?' Santana questioned with a shrug, rolling her eyes at him. 'You want in his pants, he wants to touch dat ass.' Kurt quickly scooted away from her and her nails, and she snickered. 'Nothing too complicated about that.'

'I just don't want things to go wrong,' Kurt sighed, putting the cup between his knees and feeling the warmth melt through the jeans and into his skin. There was something nice about the feeling, something comfortable. He shook his head, pulled out his phone and glanced at the time. He stood up, draining the rest of the coffee and savouring the slight burn as it travelled down his throat, and he placed the cup on the table. 'Thanks for the coffee,' he said to Santana with a smile.

Santana offered him a grin and raised her cup in a toast. 'Have fun, Porcelain,' she said, before putting her cup down and unfolding her legs from under her and standing up. She held out her arms and raised her eyebrows pointedly, and Kurt sighed, smiling. He walked back towards her and wrapped her arms around her. He could feel Santana shifting her head on his shoulder.

'Make Auntie Tana proud,' she whispered in his ear, her breath ruffling his hair, and he rolled his eyes. Gently, he pulled away and headed towards the door and opening it.

Santana's last shout of, 'Use protection!' followed him down the hallway, and he smirked in spite of himself.

* * *

The coffee shop that he and Blaine had decided upon in a few texts was located about five minutes away from Santana's apartment building. He used the time the drive took to think about things. He knew he liked Blaine, of course. Seeing that they'd kissed the night before and enjoyed it immensely, that was pretty obvious. As to the extent of those feelings, he wasn't too sure. It's too early to tell, he told himself.

Stopping at a red light, his fingers tapped idly against the wheel, watching a tanned woman walk past with a small boy; an elderly couple walk arm-in-arm down the road. Kurt shifted in his seat slightly, the heat from the sun coming through the windows turning the car uncomfortably warm. He'd been here for years, but he'd never get used to the heat. The moment the light turned green, he went off again, reaching his destination in no time, and he opened the car door.

A rush of cooler air rushed in, and Kurt breathed in relief as he slid out, belt catching on the leather seats. Slamming the car door shut behind him, Kurt shoved his hands (and keys) into his pockets and made his way towards the coffee shop, all the while making mental observations. It was small and quaint, cheerful looking with vases of flowers in the windows and happy signs announcing their new type of coffee. Kurt had passed the place a couple of times, but he'd never actually come in before.

He reached the door and slowly pushed it open, avoiding putting his hand on the glass. Finger marks on glass irked him, so obviously Santana went out of her way to do just that. Immediately, the smell of coffee, strong and simply delightful, assaulted his senses. Around him, people were sitting on round tables, chatting away and ignoring his presence. The place was painted in cheery colours, everything arranged in a logical manner. He looked around, and he smiled.

Blaine was sitting in the corner, smiling at him, and Kurt made his way over.

'Hey,' Blaine said, grinning.

'Hey,' Kurt returned, looking around as he pulled the opposite chair out and sat down. Blaine had a pad and paper out, but he quickly put them away into a bag that was hanging off the back of his chair. He then pushed a second coffee towards Kurt, who started. His surprise must have shown, because Blaine smiled again.

'I've only been here for a few minutes,' he said by way of explanation, gesturing with his hands unnecessarily. 'It should still be hot.'

Kurt took a cautious sip of it, and immediately his senses were flooded by _holy shit this is amazing I haven't lived_ and _ow holy shit hot hot hot_. He put it back down on the table in front of him and surreptitiously tried to cool his scalding tongue down.

Blaine winced apologetically.

If Kurt had had any previous reservations about awkward small talk, he certainly had none now. Talking to Blaine wasn't like talking to Santana, or Rachel, or even Mercedes. It was like they just clicked, like two pieces of a puzzle that Kurt hadn't even known had been missing. Their conversations flowed naturally, nothing seemed forced, and everything seemed right.

'Wait, wait,' Blaine said with a laugh, holding up his hand. 'So you grew up in Lima, two hours away from where I grew up?' Blaine laughed again, leaning back in his chair and looking radiant. 'That's just insane!'

'If you were in your school's glee club, we probably competed against you,' Kurt snickered, moving a hand to wipe a tear gathering in the corner of his eye. 'We could have met at a competition!'

Blaine shook his head, shoulders still shaking with barely suppressed laughter. 'God,' he said, the mirth still clear in his voice. He looked back at Kurt, eyes bright in the golden sunlight that streamed through the window. He suddenly glanced at the time on his watch, and he looked back at Kurt. 'How do you feel about getting dinner with me?'

'What? Right now?' Kurt asked.

'Yeah,' said Blaine, and if Kurt wasn't mistaken, there was a blush rising steadily from his neck to his cheeks. But when Blaine looked at him again, he saw that his eyes were hopeful, and he was once again reminded of a puppy.

'I'd love to,' Kurt smiled, and Blaine looked like he was about to jump up and down in delight.

* * *

The place that Blaine lead them to (after Blaine had insisted on paying, despite Kurt's protests) was, again, small and fairly out of the way. The atmosphere was warm and welcoming and somehow personal, despite te fact that Kurt had never set foot in the place. As they sat down in a corner table, secluded from the view of the other customers, Kurt took his sunglasses off and looked around.

The place was tastefully decorated with paintings that fit the theme of the place, and the fairly dim lights allowed the candles placed on each tables to shine more brightly.

'How do you know about all of these places?' Kurt asked as he handed Blaine a menu, flicking to the right page in his own.

'My brother took me to a lot of them when I moved here,' Blaine replied, eyes scanning down the page. He looked back up at Kurt and smiled. 'Some of them just stuck with me.' He shrugged slightly.

'Well then,' Kurt breathed, smiling as he placed his menu flat on the table. 'What do you recommend?'

When the waitress came to take their orders, Kurt ended ordering what Blaine had recommended, seeing as he had no idea what anything was like in here.

It turned out to be a brilliant decision.

'Oh my God,' he said, barely remembering to chew his food as he savoured the taste. He felt himself smiling as he swallowed that mouthful.

Blaine simply smiled at him from across the table, resting his chin on his hand.

When it came to paying the bill, Kurt insisted on paying, despite Blaine's very vocal protests. 'No,' Kurt said firmly as he handed the waitress the money, glancing at Blaine who was pouting in his seat. 'You paid for the coffee. I'm paying for dinner. We can reverse it next time.'

Blaine perked up at that. 'Next time?' he asked, and Kurt smiled at the eager, hopeful tone in his voice.

'Of course, dummy,' Kurt said with an eye roll, already making his way through the tables. He looked over at Blaine expectantly and raised an eyebrow, and Blaine hurried after him. They walked out to Kurt's car quickly, looking around for any potential paparazzi, and slid inside. Kurt immediately turned the air conditioning on. Blaine gave him directions to his apartment building, and within no time, they were there. As Blaine slid out of the passenger door, Kurt opened his and walked up to him.

'I really had fun,' he said with a bashful smile, feeling a blush cover his cheeks. Mentally, he cursed his pale skin.

'So did I,' Blaine said with a small grin. Tentatively, he reached forward and took Kurt's hands in his own. Kurt's heart had a funny swooping sensation, like a rush of adrenaline that lasted only a few seconds, or like electricity had sparked. 'And I'd really like to do this again,' he added, blushing slightly as well.

Kurt smiled, squeezing Blaine's hands. 'So would I,' he said softly. Blaine was looking him in the eye, different emotions swirling there, and when his eyes flickered down to Kurt's lips, Kurt leaned forward and gently placed a kiss on Blaine's. It was soft, this time not covered by the smell of vodka, and somehow that made it all the better. As Kurt pulled away, lest he forget to breathe, he heard Blaine make a small noise of protest in his throat, and he chuckled.

'Night, Blaine,' he said, letting go of his hands and beginning to walk back to his car.

'Night,' Blaine shouted after him. Kurt smiled as he slid inside and shut the door, and as he drove away from the building, and Blaine, the memory of the kiss remained on his lips.

* * *

He fumbled with his keys for a few seconds before actually managing to get his door open. Kurt wandered inside, mind still in a blissful state, and closed the door behind him. He immediately headed towards the bedroom, and he let himself fall back onto the covers, doing his best not to squeal in delight. In his pocket, his phone vibrated, and Kurt took it out and swiped his thumb across the screen.

**Blaine**

_Hope you got home okay :)_

**Santana**

_did you get some? _

Kurt rolled his eyes, and replied to Blaine's: _Of course :) _and to Santana's: _Begone, Satan_.

He then placed his phone on the side, quickly got changed and all but threw himself under his covers. Kurt smiled into his pillow, hugging it to his chest as he allowed sleep to overtake him.

_A/N: And that was that. Finally. Anyway, I really do appreciate reviews so. Yeah. *backs into shadows*_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I DID THE THING. I finally got this completed! I'm sorry that I've been pretty much absent for the past month – I've been dealing with college and real life and having written myself into a corner, and basically this was the first chance I had to write it. So, I wrote it. Once again, there should be at symbols next to the twitter usernames, but, y'know, ff doesn't like that. Honestly, I have no idea how good or bad it is. _

* * *

'Did you know that you and Hairgel are the main source of gossip today?' Santana asked conversationally from her perch on Kurt's sofa.

Kurt looked over his shoulder at her as he continued pouring drinks out, frowning. 'What?' he asked, confusion seeping in. He quickly turned around and made his way back to the sofa, placing the drinks carefully on the coffee table and sitting down, leaning against the cushions.

'You were seen yesterday,' Santana said with a shrug, looking at him for a brief second. She paused as she shifted herself so she could fold her legs underneath her body. 'Together,' she continued, typing something and scrolling on Kurt's laptop. 'People are already speculating.'

'About what?' Kurt asked, bringing his cup of coffee to his lips and taking a sip. Immediately, the hot liquid travelled down his throat, warming him instantly.

Santana sent him sideways glance, smirking. 'Whether you two are 'an item'.' She put her fingers up and used quotations marks around _an item_, rolling her eyes. Her eyes were quickly scanning over the screen and she pulled a face. 'That worthless piece of shit Perez is encouraging it, anyway.'

'He would,' Kurt sighed, leaning his head back slightly in the hopes that it would sort the growing headache. Maybe taking some painkillers would help as well. And perhaps some more sleep.

After he'd gotten in last night from his impromptu date with Blaine, he had fallen asleep initially, but then he'd woken up after a while. After that, he hadn't been able to sleep for what seemed like hours. Minute by minute playbacks happened in his head every time he closed his eyes, filling Kurt with an undeniable happiness that he hadn't felt in what seemed like years, maybe even forever.

And honestly, it should have been slightly frightening just how fast he'd fallen for Blaine, fallen and hit the ground so hard it left him breathless, but it just felt right. Blaine felt right, after years of attempted college relationships and one night stands. Maybe it was too early in the game to be thinking like this, and maybe it was the hopeless romantic in Kurt, but there was part of his mind that was thinking that maybe, just maybe, he'd found the One.

He sighed, smiling dreamily into the steam rising from the cup, and heard a sharp cough. He looked over at Santana, who was watching him with an expression that seemed caught between amusement and pain.

'You're disgusting when you're all happy,' she said plainly, scrunching up her nose for effect, 'and in love,' she added with a flippant wave of her hand.

Kurt threw his cushion at her.

'Whatever, Hairspray,' she said with another eyeroll, placing the laptop on the coffee table and getting up. She turned and grabbed her jacket from where she'd slung it across the back of the sofa and started to make her way towards the door, heels clacking loudly against the floor. 'I've gots a date with Britt,' she added by way of explanation of her sudden departure as she turned around at the door, shrugging. 'I'll see you later.'

Kurt waved absently at the already closing door, tipping his head back and sighing in relief at the silence.

* * *

Later on, when his headache had lessened off, Kurt took his laptop into his bedroom and clambered onto his bed. Whilst waiting for it to start up, he grabbed his phone from where he'd left it on the side that morning and began to go through his contacts to find Blaine. However, he was saved the trouble of doing that when his screen suddenly changed – Blaine was calling him, and Kurt slid his finger across the screen to answer immediately.

'Well, hello,' he said into the phone, grinning.

'Hey, Kurt!' Blaine's voice returned immediately, bright and happy and so bubbly it made Kurt grin even more widely. Noticing that his laptop had loaded up completely, he opened his browser and went for Tumblr. He smiled as he listened to Blaine talk, content to let his voice wash over him as he logged in.

Scrolling through the posts on his dashboard were interesting, to say the least. He'd first gotten Tumblr at the behest of Rachel, insisting that if you followed fans of yourself then 'you could use any constructive criticism to make your work better, plus the fact that an ego boost went a long way in a role, particularly a character who had a large ego'. She'd somehow said all of that in one breath as well, which Kurt found both impressive and disturbing.

The system was simple: whenever he'd done something fairly huge, huge enough to make the trashy gossip websites, he'd look on Tumblr. On Tumblr, he was one of the quiet bloggers that occasionally piped up, but otherwise kept quiet about things, reblogging bits of fashion, broadway and music. Somehow, that alone had managed to gain him followers – how, he didn't know.

His dash, though, was today mainly made up of questionings, speculation and reblogged porn and fanfiction, which Kurt pointedly skipped.

There was a limit, after all.

When he started to properly read through the posts, he couldn't help but let out a laugh.

* * *

_** - Kurt Hummel seen out and about with Blaine Anderson after dark - **_

* * *

_people are getting way too excited over nothing_

* * *

_wait, what'd i miss? _

* * *

_dude, those are some serious heart eyes going on there_

* * *

_just friends my ass_

* * *

_nO BUT LOOK AT THE WAY THEY'RE SITTING_

_SO_

_CLOSE_

* * *

_that link is from blindgossip though, and we all know what they're like_

* * *

'Hm?' Kurt said into the phone non-committally, stifling another chuckle as he continued wading through the posts claiming loss of 'ability to can' and reaction gifs of cats.

'What's got you so amused?' Blaine asked, his voice warm and affectionate. It made Kurt's heart warm, and send that warmth through his body.

'We were seen last night,' Kurt told him, snorting when he saw a long and detailed post on why he and Blaine were clearly just friends, and anyone who thought otherwise was an idiot. 'People are talking about us.'

'Oh?' Blaine asked, not sounding the least bit worried and more curious than anything, 'what do they have to say?'

'A lot of them are certain that we're together,' Kurt said airily, spotting a music post with a Broadway song on it and instantly reblogging it.

'And are we together?'

'Of course we are,' Kurt said, like it was obvious. He rolled his eyes affectionately as he added, 'Do you think I go around kissing every man I meet, Blaine Anderson?'

'Of course not,' Blaine replied, the laughter he was clearly barely keeping in evident in his voice, and Kurt smiled again. He was silent for a moment, content to listen to the sound of Blaine's breathing. He shifted on the bed slightly, moving so that he was leaning against the stacked pillows with the laptop balancing between his thighs and stomach.

'I think that,' Blaine said in a low voice, making Kurt pause in his typing, 'we should continue to torture them for a bit.'

Kurt raised his eyebrows and leant back, grinning. 'You think we shouldn't tell them?' he asked.

'It's our relationship,' Blaine said, nonchalance taking over his voice, 'technically, it has nothing to do with anyone else.'

'You just want to see them go insane.'

'Well,' Blaine admitted, a grin in his voice and not even bothering trying to hide it, 'there is that too.'

Kurt let out a laugh, both at Blaine and at the newest chain of posts that were flooding his dashboard. He shifted again absently - the bottom of the laptop was beginning to heat up his jeans and, as a result, him.

'Anyway,' said Blaine, letting out a breathy laugh that sent happy waves of butterflies into Kurt's stomach, 'how about lunch tomorrow?'

* * *

_KLAINE HAVE BEEN SPOTTED_

_I REPEAT_

_KLAINE HAVE BEEN SPOTTED_

* * *

_i'm having a meltdown_

* * *

_LOOK AT THEIR FACES THOUGH_

* * *

_look at the asses *_*_

* * *

_._

_#no #why #i can't go on_

* * *

_goodbye friends I am done_

_fic: coffee kisses_

_summary: klaine coffee shop au, blaine's working as a barista when kurt walks in. things happen_

_**- read more** -_

* * *

_why DO YOU DO THIS TO ME_

* * *

Kurt snorted into the soft wool of his scarf as he stared at the latest posts on his Tumblr iPhone app, barely managing to avoid the people on the pavement. The cool wind tugged impatiently at him, biting at any exposed skin that he had left, and he quickened his pace, chuckles still occasionally escaping.

He and Blaine had been at this little game, as it were, for two months. They'd allow themselves to be seen together in public, doing things that most friends would do, and then they'd sit back and watch the fans lose their minds over whether it was proof that they were 'just friends', or, as Santana eloquently put it, 'getting their kinky freak on'.

It wasn't that they were lying – they'd never said outright that they weren't dating – it was more of a case of dancing around the truth and letting people believe what they wanted to believe.

As Blaine's apartment building came within his sights, he looked around briefly, and hastily made his way towards it. Kurt opened the door, stepped through it and immediately revelled in the warmth that melted into him. His footsteps echoed loudly on the tiled floor as he made his way to the elevator. Once he was out, he made a beeline for Blaine's door and knocked.

'They're at it again,' he said by way of greeting when Blaine opened the door, breezing past him and flinging his scarf on the small nearby table. He turned around and pressed a quick kiss to Blaine's lips, internally smiling at how domestic it all felt.

'The fans?' Blaine asked as he closed the door behind them, sliding the lock into place. Kurt placed his sunglasses on the side next to the scarf, leaning on the edge of the table and tipping his head back with a sigh, letting the warmth wash over him.

'Obviously,' he answered, his eyes closing. He felt more than heard Blaine move towards him and two seconds later, he felt warm arms wrap around his waist, a warm chest press against his. Automatically, Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine, content to just stay like that forever. Eventually, though, he felt out a small laugh and pushed gently against Blaine and brushed past him.

'If you listen closely,' Kurt said conversationally as he unbuttoned his jacket and dropped it along the back of the ridiculously comfy sofa that Blaine owned, 'you can hear their screams of frustration.'

'And the crying. You mustn't forget the crying,' Blaine added as he walked past Kurt and made his way into the kitchen. Kurt followed after a moment, pressing a quick kiss to Blaine's cheek as he passed him and went to the kitchen counter. Deciding against something digging into his back, he hopped up onto the counter instead, smiling his thanks when Blaine handed him a drink. The smell of hot chocolate immediately assaulted his senses, and he internally melted with happiness.

'No one can forget the crying,' Kurt nodded in agreement, taking a sip and smiling dreamily into the rising heat. Taking another sip, he added, 'Remember Carl's birthday?'

Nobody could forget Carl's birthday. Carl had been one of the few main characters in the film Kurt and Santana had done, and his birthday had been nothing short of legendary. The paparazzi had found out, obviously, and had been waiting outside to take pictures. One had managed to get Kurt and Blaine walking (well, more like staggering) together, and the fans had completely lost their shit when the picture was put online.

Blaine started cackling, as he always did whenever it was brought up. The sound was contagious, and within a few seconds, Kurt was laughing with him, one hand clutching the edge of the counter so that he didn't accidentally fall off. He'd done that once and he wasn't eager to relive the experience.

Letting out one last chuckle, Kurt breathed to calm himself, and he said, 'Anyway, I did come over for a reason.'

'Was that reason bedroom related?' Blaine asked with a sly grin, 'Because if so, I am totally on board.'

Kurt kicked at him, cackling when Blaine barely missed being kicked in the arm.

'Anyway,' he repeated, putting emphasis on the word and ignoring Blaine's pout at him for the kick, 'I was actually wondering if you wanted to go on a vacation with me.' He paused, quickly thinking about when his selected dates, and added, 'Fairly soon.' He shrugged and smiled. 'I was thinking we could go to London.'

Blaine paused, the idea of London having grabbed his attention, and asked, 'London?'

Kurt shrugged again and let his legs swing back and forth, smiling. 'I've always wanted to go there. It just looks so amazing...' He sighed, still smiling, and looked at Blaine, who was staring at him with a soft smile and wide eyes. 'What?' he asked, laughing slightly.

Blaine just shook his head, taking a few steps closer. 'You,' he said, eyes shining earnestly and smile warm and affectionate. 'I'd love to go with you,' he said softly, taking the last few steps forward until they were close enough to touch.

Kurt smiled instantly and leaned forward, kissing Blaine softly. It was almost lazy, and so familiar that it made Kurt's heart skip a beat with the joy it brought him. Blaine smiled against his lips, hands going to his waist and hands going under his shirt and tracing patterns into his skin.

Kurt broke the kiss after a few moments, leaning his head forward to rest his forehead against Blaine's. Blaine's hands were still on his waist, and he sighed happily.

* * *

Rachel Berry ** rachelbarbraberry**

_** kurthummel **guess who's coming to find you?!_

* * *

Kurt Hummel ** kurthummel**

_** rachelbarbraberry** bring it xD_

* * *

The minute Kurt opened his door to see who was knocking, he found himself with an armful of Rachel Berry.

Quickly gathering his thoughts and regaining control of his limbs, he hugged her back just as tightly. His arms were tight around her torso, and as he lifted her off the ground in his happiness of seeing her again, Kurt felt her grin into his neck.

'Oh my god,' he said, laughing as he released her and took in her beaming face, 'I can't believe you're here!' He glanced behind Rachel and took in her suitcase and hand luggage.

'For a few days,' Rachel said with a breathless laugh, reaching behind her to grab her bags. Kurt beat her to the largest and pulled it inside the apartment, the wheels moving noisily over the floor. Rachel followed him, her heeled boots clacking noisily over the wood.

Kurt quickly deposited the case and Rachel's bag in the kitchen for the time being and grabbed a couple of bottles of coke from the fridge. Rachel was already seated on his sofa when he wandered back in, legs curled up under her and leaning on the armrest. She accepted the offered bottle with a smile and a, 'Thanks.'

'So,' Kurt said, sitting down next to her and opening his bottle. The resulting fizzing sounded loud in the relative quietness.

'So,' Rachel mimicked teasingly, taking a sip of her drink and watching him through thickly lined eyes.

'How are you?' Kurt asked, leaning forward slightly. 'How's the show going? And New York?'

And maybe Kurt asked her every time they Skyped, but watching her be excited through a grainy picture was nothing compared to seeing her passion in the flesh. She started talking with an energy Kurt didn't realise she had at that moment in time, grinning breathlessly when she spoke of New York and gesticulating wildly when she spoke of the show. Kurt just watched her fondly as she continued to speak, happy that she was happy, and that she had achieved her dream.

'I still wish you were there with me, though,' Rachel said suddenly, her voice wistful as she looked down for a brief second. She saw Kurt open his mouth to say something, and quickly added, 'I know, it's been like, four years since we left school, but we always said we'd go to New York together, you know?' Kurt did know. 'And I know you're happy and I'm happy, but...' she shrugged. 'I still think about it sometimes.'

Kurt smiled at her, leaning forward to put his drink on the coffee table, and reached to take her hands in his own. She smiled back at him, squeezing his hands tightly. 'There's still time, remember?' Kurt reminded her gently, rubbing circles into her knuckles with his thumbs. 'We're still young, and there's still time to do all of that.'

Rachel nodded, took a deep breath, and smiled again. 'You're right,' she nodded, freeing one hand momentarily to push her hair out of her face before taking Kurt's hand again. She grinned at him. 'How's Blaine?' she asked. It would have been innocent if not for the knowing glint in her eyes.

'He's good. Great, even,' Kurt replied, ducking his head to stare at the fabric of his jeans for a second. 'We're great.'

Rachel poked him in the side before scooting closer to him so that their knees were touching. 'What's happened?' she asked, grinning excitedly. Off task, Kurt randomly thought that Rachel seemed far too invested in his love life, but shrugged it off. It was Rachel, after all.

'We're going on vacation together,' Kurt blurted out, unable to stop grinning at the thought because that was actually happening. Rachel let out a delighted squeal and tackled him on the sofa, hugging him tightly.

'Where are you going?' Rachel all but demanded, resting her head under Kurt's chin. Kurt tried not to inhale mouthfuls of hair.

'London,' he replied with a dreamy sigh, and Rachel let out another squeal. Kurt thought for a moment about everything that had been going around his head lately. He hadn't told anyone else about it, not even Santana, but now that Rachel was here, being so supportive... 'There's something else,' Kurt found himself saying, almost without his brain's permission.

'What?' Rachel asked softly, leaning back slightly to look at Kurt with concern.

Kurt took a deep breath, steadying his erratic thoughts and banishing any remaining hesitancy. 'I love him,' he admitted, feeling a rush of adrenaline and giddiness rush through him as the words finally left his mouth. 'I really, really love him.'

Rachel didn't let out an excited squeal this time. Instead, she gasped softly and smiled, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Kurt knew where he'd seen that look before – it was the look she wore when she watched romantic musicals and the protagonists declared their love for each other.

'Have you told him?' she asked, leaning into his side this time. Kurt immediately put an arm around her waist.

'Not yet,' Kurt replied, smiling as he thought of his plan, 'but I'm going to.'

Rachel seemed to catch on, and she grinned at him. 'In London?' she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

Kurt grinned at her in reply. 'In London,' he nodded. He quickly got up and darted to where his DVDs were kept, and found Moulin Rouge. He handed her the DVD and ran to get his laptop, grabbed it and returned to the sofa. 'A night of musicals,' he said to her, grinning enthusiastically. She beamed at him in reply and leaned into his side, head under his chin again. 'Starting with a tragic love story.'

* * *

Rachel Berry ** rachelbarbraberry **

_a night of love and tragedy with ** kurthummel**_

_| Retweeted by ** kurthummel**_

* * *

Kurt Hummel ** kurthummel**

_** rachelbarbraberry** moulin rouge bitches! _

_| Favorited by ** blaineanderson**_

* * *

Santana Lopez ** auntiesnix**

_** blaineanderson** ** kurthummel **is there any reason why you favourited that, blaine? _

_| Favorited by ** frankenfinn**, ** tinacc **and +100 others | Retweeted by 100+ others_

* * *

Kurt Hummel ** kurthummel**

_** auntiesnix **it's a good movie, santana_

_| Retweeted by ** rachelbarbraberry**_

* * *

Puck ** puckzilla**

_** auntiesnix kurthummel **the duke was a dick_

Rachel Berry ** rachelbarbraberry**

_** puckzilla** noah._

* * *

Kurt rolled his eyes at the steady stream of tweets on his timeline, and exited the app. If he listened to Noah Puckerman talk anymore, he'd end up with a headache. It would be ten times worse with Santana around, though.

His phone suddenly buzzed with an incoming text, and he slid his thumb across the screen.

**Blaine**

_Have fun with your movies :) xx_

Kurt felt a smile tug at his lips, and he slipped his phone into his pocket before slouching down on the sofa to watch Moulin Rouge with Rachel.

* * *

_A/N: So, that was it. That was the latest chapter, and hopefully it turned out okay. Please leave a review – they honestly make me happy :) _


End file.
